Splintered Hearts

Five

Noah

I look hot.

Getting ready for this party is the pick me up I need. I haven’t drank since Mark dumped my vodka, and now I feel nearly normal.

Almost.

I have no job, home, or immediate family, but ya know, progress. Earlier this morning, we went shopping, and it felt a lot like how it used to in college. Mark and I have a bond that the average person would not understand—one built on mutual trust, love, and the ability to out insult each other.

Slipping on the pink scoop-neck sweater I bought, I have to smile—it’s so far from what I wore at my father’s, and I love it. Soft, not just in color but feel. The pink clashes a bit with my eyes but melts against my pale skin, and the hem is short, rising just above my navel. August is a little warm to be wearing it, but the temperature should cool off tonight.

No more dull colors, suits, or hiding who I am.

Grabbing my lip balm, I dab a tiny bit on my lips and smooth it out. The shimmery pink is just the bit of color I need. I inspect myself in the mirror, and damn, with the magic of foundation and concealer, you can barely see the fading bruise around my eye. “Can I come in?” Hunter peeks round the door.

“It’s your room.” We’ve been in a tentative truce since Hunter returned and sent me to the couch, and things are peaceful apart from the unhinged noises that bleed through the walls every night. Whatever. I need to work on finding a place anyhow. That’s my next step.

“You look amazing.”

“Stop hitting on him,” Mark says, coming in.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Hunter grins. “Unless you’re into threesomes.”

“I already took one for the team in college. It’s your turn to wade in the trenches.”

“Shut up, Noah.” Mark sighs. “We’ll find a way to fulfill your threesome fantasies another day, babe.”

“I’ll survive,” Hunter mutters.

“You do look good and smell good. Nice change.”

“I always smell good.” Fluffing my hair a bit and looking myself over, I have to smile. I feel like me. “Are you guys going to get ready?”

Hunter’s brows pinch as if I have three heads. “We are ready.”

“That’s what you both are wearing?”

Mark looks down at his sweats and T-shirt, and then at Hunter who’s wearing gym shorts and a hoodie. “We’re hanging out with friends, not going to a jazz bar.”

“I think you look cute.” Hunter grins, dipping his fingers into the front of Mark’s sweats. “Play your cards right and we can have one last bathroom quicky.”

“Enough. My ears are bleeding as it is from last night. I think the entire block knows how much you enjoy Hunter’s dick.”

“Asshole.” Mark pouts.

Taking one last look at myself, anxiety starts to creep into me. Going out dancing in a club is one thing—I’d never see those people again. But these are Hunter and Mark’s friends. What if I embarrass them?

Is this too much? I hate that tiny voice in my head that sounds oddly like my father.

You’re too much .

Boys don’t paint their nails or do their makeup.

What if Hunter’s friends make fun of me? Hunter wouldn’t be friends with people like that, right? “Do I look okay?” I hate this. “Is it too much?”

“Yes.” Mark deadpans.

“If you’re worried that anyone will tease you about how you’re dressed, don’t be. My friends are good people. Wear whatever you want. They won’t care.”

“You sure?” How does Hunter see right through me?

“I was just playing around.” Mark squeezes my arm.

Okay, I can do this. I look hot. Hunter’s friends aren’t dicks. Checking myself one more time, I see Mark kiss Hunter in the mirror.

“Gross!”

“Jealous.” Mark flips me off and kisses him again.

“I am jealous of no man who chooses to be inside you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not anymore. Never again. No matter how much you inevitably beg me.”

“Enough. Stop saying Mark’s gross.” Hunter grabs him around the waist. “It’s not true.” I open my mouth, snapping it shut at the spicy look he gives me. “Good boy.”

Oh.

Oh, damn. “You hear that, Mark?” Sticking my tongue between my teeth, I wink. “Praise me again, Puck Daddy.”

Hunter shuts his eyes for three patience-grabbing breaths. “Your friend is an idiot.

Sliding into the back of Hunter’s jeep, I start to get excited. “Is your friend single? Queer? Questioning? Daring to dip a toe in the penis pond? Maybe I’ll see how much of my confidence my father beat out of me.”

“No, you won’t,” Mark says firmly.

“I think that’s up to the man and his penis, Mark. Rude.”

“You are not hooking up with any of Hunter’s friends.”

“Aw.” I sit up between the seats. “You jealous? I’d still be hung up on me too.”

Hunter shakes his head. “Stop it.” Mark pushes me back between the seats.

Hunter adds. “Remember Sawyer? He’ll be there.”

Thinking for a moment, the name registers. “Oh! Bakery booty. Of course I remember him.”

“Bakery boo—never call him that again.” Hunter shakes his head.

“I’m calling him that the second we see him,” Mark mumbles.

“Sawyer’s cute.” Sawyer owned a bakery about thirty minutes from here. “If I remember, though, he’s not my type.”

“If I remember correctly, he turned you down.”

“Exactly. I like men with taste.”

“You know this isn’t a debutant ball? We aren’t selecting a suitor for you, we’re hanging out with some of Hunter’s friends. Keep your dick in your pants,” Mark warns.

Leaning between the seats again, I look at Hunter, who’s trying hard to focus on the road, not the conversation.

“Listen to your best friend.” Hunter’s eyes meet mine in the rear-view mirror. “And please don’t bang my friends.”

“Why?” I fall back against the seat, folding my arms. “What else am I going to do at this party?”

“Act like a normal human being.”

“Ew.”

I lean my head against the cool glass as Hunter and Mark talk without me. My wit has run dry and all the adrenaline I felt earlier tonight is depleting. There are too many things I need to do—find a job, find an apartment. I graduated with a degree in a field I hate, though at least it’s paid for, and I know most degrees are bullshit. Fancy pieces of paper to say look at me, I’m in debt.

Well , not me, at least. There is that . Thanks, Dad . What am I going to do? I have no skills. I’ve never even considered another future for myself.

Which is my own fault.

I let shit happen to me. I’m miserable but oddly comfortable. It’s all I’ve known my entire life. But it’s time to move on from it completely. I rub my eyes. Real tears burn. There’s no going back now. What’s done is done. There’s no other choice but to move on. I’m not ashamed of who I am, and I refuse to let anyone else make me feel like I should be.

I startle as a hand touches my knee. “What?”

“You alright?”

Taking a deep breath, I nod. It’s time to move on—this is my fresh start.

We turn down a driveway, and Hunter’s tires crunch under the gravel leading to a white ranch-style home with a cute front porch. A little light at the door illuminates the front. Butterflies with razor wings fill my stomach.

I can do this. Flirting and meeting people has never made me nervous before. Hunter turns to face me. “If Jamie is mean to you, don’t take it personally. You’ve been through enough. If he’s a bit of a dick, it’s not you.”

“Because Jamie’s an asshole.”

Hunter glares. “When life was dealing out cards, Jamie got a real shit hand. I think that’s something you can relate to right now. I think you two will get along.”

“Please don’t,” Mark whispers.

Hunter gets out, slamming his door a little too hard. I fear for my best friend’s ass later. “If you want to go home at any point, let me know.” Nodding to appease him, some of my nerves start to wane. “And for the love of god, keep your dick in your pants tonight.”

“You act like that’s how I greet people! Hello, nice to meet you. May I show you my dick?” Mark looks at me flatly. “I don’t!” Folding my arms over my chest, I sink back against the seat. “I have standards! It’s been nothing but skyward since I slept with you.”

Mark slaps my cheek lightly. “I’m warning you because I know you. Just be careful.”

The car door swings open. “Are you two dipshits coming?”

They argue quietly while I trail behind. I’d be more worried if I weren’t one thousand percent sure this is foreplay. The door swings open. A cute Latino man with warm brown skin and black curly hair put up in a tiny ponytail with a silver bow greets us, offering the widest dimpled grin I’ve ever seen. The sides of his temples are decorated with shimmery silver dragon scales. “Yes! Someone who can cook.”

“Your brother can cook. Very well.”

“He can cook but can he grill? I told Bri I got this, but I so don’t got this.” His dark eyes land on me—they’re kind, and shine like the night sky above us. Okay, Jamie’s fucking hot. When he grabs Mark for one of those bro-hug things, I’m a little confused. I thought he hated him. “This Noah?”

“Yeah, this is Xavier.” So, not Jamie. “Jamie’s brother.”

If Jamie’s as hot as his brother, I can understand Mark’s warning. Taking my hand in his, Xavier squeezes it. “Call me Xavi, or sir, or Captain America. Any one of those.”

Hunter laughs, pushing him back through the door. “Let’s go see the damage.”

We walk into the house and it smells... warm. “Who did your makeup?”

“Bri.” Hunter, Mark, and Xavi say in unison.

“She’s out back. Don’t let her get you alone unless you want a full face of makeup.” So, go find Brianna, preferably alone. Got it.

Walking into the living room, I can see a handful of people sitting on the sofa and plush recliner. “Sawyer!” Hunter grins, walking up to his friend. Okay yes, I remember him. How could I not? Sawyer’s handsome with wavy black hair and a wide, easy smile. He hasn’t changed much since I last saw him. He looks a little tired, though, with some bruising under his eyes. “You remember Noah?”

“Ah.” Sawyer’s brows rise. “How could I forget?”

“Bakery booty. A pleasure as always.” I take his hand in mine and Sawyer just laughs. “How’s the bakery?” Sawyer runs a bakery a few towns over. When we were in college, I’d helped him clean it up after a fire had destroyed his mother’s Thai restaurant. Instead of reopening she decided to pass the store on to her son so he could open his own bakery.

Sawyer shrugs. “It’s alright. I love that I can do it. Just have to get used to barely sleeping.”

“Making cookies isn’t for the weak.” Hunter laughs.

Sawyer does too, but there’s something tired in it that his friend doesn’t see. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “What about you? How have you been?”

“Noah’s staying with us for a bit,” Mark so helpfully supplies.

“I’m apartment hunting.” And not currently sleeping on Mark’s couch.

“That’s great. I’m glad you’re doing well.”

“Hunter! You need to come out here. Xavi is going to burn the fucking ho—” An Asian man stops on seeing us. “Oh, uh...” Filling the doorway, looking confused then slightly angry, his eyes pass over all of us. He’s wearing a black sweater that’s rolled up his forearms, revealing tattoos that disappear under the sleeves. A black snake, wrapped in pink and red cherry blossoms that pop against the deep tan of his skin is the most prominent one, taking up the entirety of his left forearm.

Dark eyes connect with mine.

I can’t move.

Can’t breathe.

My feet are frozen. Red lips press into a hard line, and... fuck me . So fucking hot. The man’s eyes pinch, slowly narrowing on me. Fuck! Did I say that out loud? Finally, his gaze releases me, and he looks at Hunter. “Get outside. Xavi is going to kill us all.” Turning to leave, he goes back out the way he came in.

“And that was Jamie,” Mark whispers.

“Better go rescue dinner... and Xavi.” Hunter kisses Mark then follows in the direction Jamie went.

“It’s nice to see you again.” I barely hear Sawyer. Holy shit. My chest feels fluttery, my stomach swoopy.

“I see now why you kept warning me.”

“Noah—”

“Because he is quite possibly the most gorgeous human man I have ever seen in my life!” I hiss. Holy shit. “Welp, don’t want to keep Hunter’s friends waiting.” As I try to run away Mark grabs my arm, pulling me into a hallway away from his friends. “Now, Mark, we can’t. What about Hunter? I know you miss this but—”

“Will you shut the fuck up for five minutes?” I pinch my lips shut. “Turn off those fuck-me eyes. Now!”

Giving Mark a slow once-over, I smirk. “Look at that. Instantly soft.”

Mark’s jaw clenches. “I’m being serious.”

I do what any respectable adult would do—I stomp my foot. Seriously, Mark never wants me to have any fun! “You know how much I love height differences and grumpy-sunshine romances. Let me live. Just a little.”

“Stop romanticizing the bad guy!”

“I think you’re just misunderstanding him.”

Mark pinches his brow. “And why’s that?”

“Because . . . because he’s hot.”

“I’m being serious. I’m only saying this because I know you, and I know him. I wouldn’t try to stop you unless I had a good reason.”

Fuck, he’s right.

Still . . .

Mark’s hard eyes remain on me. “Calm down! I’m not going to strip naked the second I see him. I’ll at least say hello first.” Mark punches my arm. “Ow!”

“Next time, it’s your dick.”

“You have no sense of humor!” I rub my arm. “Have you been working out?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so. Didn’t feel like it.”

His jaw clenches. “I just want to hang out with Hunter’s friends, okay? Can we just do that?”

“Fine. But let me talk to people. Stop momming me. I’ll be fine.” Maybe. I wasn’t kidding, though. My body’s humming, and I feel more alive than I have all week. Whatever. I’ll be a good little boy and listen to my friend.

Probably.

Maybe.

We’ll see.